


Steve's Special Shoes

by neverthelessthesun



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Feminization, Ficlet, Gen, High Heels, Lingerie, No Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, for once lol, kind of?, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: Steve loved wearing heels.





	Steve's Special Shoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenWuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenWuppy/gifts).



> Hi! Thanks for clicking! This was written in like a half hour because the discord chat wanted Steve in heels. 
> 
> Comments are love! And I love all of you <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve loved wearing heels. They were soft and pretty, with smooth shiny buckles at his ankles. He liked the soft brown of the leather and the way they made his feet look feminine instead of bony. They made him stand straighter by default, which was a hard task when fighting against his scoliosis. He couldn’t wear them for long--not with his balance and blood flow problems, he’d pass out--but he enjoyed it when he could.

It wasn’t an awful big jump from heels to stockings. The silk was hard to come by, even before the war started, but Steve managed to fish a ripped pair out of the trash he’d been thrown into one day, and they were one of his most prized possessions. He kept them folded and tucked carefully under his mattress. 

There was no way Bucky had any clue Steve liked to dress up like a girl. He would have laughed his ass off, thinking of firecracker Steve playing meek and humble. But that wasn't what it was, for him. He didn’t feel meek or small in the shoes. He felt...powerful.

Still, the threat of being labelled a fairy (more so than he already was for being so slightly built) was enough to make Steve very careful about his secret hobby. He never ever got the shoes and stockings out unless he was sure there would be no visitors, and that Bucky would be at the docks all day. 

But, when he did.

Steve slid the stockings up his thighs, wishing again that he had a garter belt to attach them to. They fell down his slim legs too easily when he stood, but he couldn’t bear not to wear them, the silky tease across his skin enhancing every other sensation. Then he slid the box containing the heels from its hiding spot, and reverently opened the lid. The patent brown leather gleamed back at him, well cared-for and unscuffed. These were his pride and joy--a secret just for him.

He picked up the first shoe carefully, bringing his foot up and slipping it into the shoe. He was so grateful he was tiny enough to fit into women’s sizes--he couldn’t imagine not having this moment if he were bigger. The leather molded to him perfectly, smoothing out his bones and long toes into something approaching beauty. He sighed in relief.

Clasping the buckle a bit loosely so as not to strain the precious thin leather, he set his foot down and enjoyed the feeling of the arch in his foot, the different way his leg rested. There was a strap across the top of his foot, caging him from the base of his toes to his ankle, which was stylish and feminine. It emphasized the length of his leg. 

He carefully slipped into the other shoe, buckling the ankle strap. Then, placing both feet firmly on the floor, he let the sensations wash over him for a minute. Finally he pushed up from the bed and stood. 

He was perhaps three inches taller like this, and it changed the whole room around him. Suddenly he felt brave, like he could take on the world. The strong arch of the sole supported him and kept him pointing his toes for balance, but he knew now how to wear them without causing himself to cramp up. He tightened the tendons in his calves, luxuriating in the feeling. It was so different from the stance he was used to taking--he felt like his shoulders were pushed out automatically, like he was taking up more space than before. 

He daren’t take a step in them, for they had neighbors downstairs, and Mrs. Brasel was so nosy that she certainly would have noticed if Steve had or hadn’t bought a lady friend home. He knew how the sound would echo through the whole building, walls be damned. He couldn’t risk it. 

Sighing, he sat back down and started the process of unbuckling the shoes and cleaning them. He tried to keep the leather supple and polished, just like he did with his best pair of Sunday shoes. Rubbing any trace of wear away, he placed them softly in the crinkled tissue paper and mournfully closed the lid. Another time, he told himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on dreamwidth [here](https://neverthelessthesun.dreamwidth.org/)!


End file.
